


For The Greater Good

by anh689



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter: Hogwarts Mystery (Video Game)
Genre: Action, Adventure, Drama, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:42:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 20,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26291338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anh689/pseuds/anh689
Summary: What is the greater good? Dumbledore believed it's love. Gellert Grindelwald connected it to utilitarianism. Voldemort, his parent's killer, believed that there is no good and evil, there is only power and those too weak to seek it. Robert Grindelwald was not weak, and come what may, he'd bring the greater good about. In his own way. OC x Harem. No Mary Sues, no Character bashing.





	1. 1. - Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not possess any rights to the Harry Potter franchise. All rights belong to J.K. Rowling. Unlike every other author on this website who put up such disclaimers in every chapter, I will include them in only the first chapter of my fics.

This is an idea which came to my mind from reading Fate by TheTrueSpartan, one of the best writers on this website which I can't name here as it doesn't allow that, and also one of the best people I've met on this website . The plot is in no way related to his plot, although I have borrowed some characters from his story because I liked them a lot. He gave me his formal permission, and I'd like to thank him for that, for listening to my questions, taking the time out to answer them from his busy schedule, and for helping me perfect this idea.

If you haven't read Fate by now, what are you waiting for? It's easily the best fanfiction on this website.

My inspiration for writing this story came from Fate, and TTS. He inspired me to look for my own idea, to perfect it until I could bring it to fruition, and share it with all of you.

Morningstar is still under the works. There is no hurry, and once I'm done with it, I promise you, no one will be disappointed. I will publish it when I get the inspiration to write it down.

* * *

_**For The Greater Good** _

_**Chapter 1 – Prologue** _

_**Norbert Grindelwald's POV** _

_**Wednesday 30th April, 1981 (Grindelwald Residence, River Piddle, Dorset, England, – Nearly midnight)** _

"Avada Kedavra!"

One did not simply refuse the Dark Lord and live to tell the tale. Norbert knew that now when it was too late for him and his wife. His beloved Lucretia. At least her passing was swift. Maybe Voldemort respected her pureblood status? Maybe it was out of respect for her Black relatives? Did Bellatrix ask him to use the killing curse? Norbert didn't have any care nor clue. His wife passed away peacefully, and it was all that mattered to him in his final moments.

They made their bed, and they were prepared to lay in it. They didn't think they'd be sought out to be made an example out of by Voldemort, they even expected the madman to pay a smidgeon of respect to his predecessor's family, yet here they were.

The Dark Lord did not forgive nor forget. No slights, nor insults, nor rejections were ignored. Tom was punishment incarnate, and maybe this was the punishment of the crimes of Gellert Grindelwald; only it was his family which would pay it.

He would gladly face the Dark Lords' cruciatus curse for the rest of eternity if it meant his family could have been spared. But even as his heart grieved at the loss of his wife, his mind was resolute. He would not show weakness in the face of death. In the off chance that Robert was spared, unlikely as it was, he would not remember his father as a coward if Norbert could help it.

_Robert…_

His poor boy of five did not deserve to see his mother butchered in the doorway of their house and being wandlessly levitated alongside her corpse. He did not deserve to be orphaned at that tender age barely a month after his birthday, which they had celebrated while hundreds like his family were massacred under the orders of the heir of Slytherin.

This was the price for his hubris. To think the war would not come to his family. To think they were above it.

His father, Gellert Grindelwald, the third strongest wizard in human history, and the second darkest wizard of all time, started the first revolution decades ago and forever damned the noble name of Godric Gryffindor's descendants. Norbert could never have escaped that reality.

Now Gellert would reap what he had sowed so long ago, as his past caught up to him after losing himself in his quest for the greater good. Norbert had hated his father for decades for his actions, for ripping families apart, for pitting friend against friend, wife against husband, son against father, brother against sister, and community against community. He had resented him for all his life, and now towards his end, he hated himself for his own inaction, and pitied Gellert, and hated himself some more.

The Grindelwald line would most certainly end tonight, and Gellert would have to live with that thought for the rest of his years.

"My… _sincere_ apologies for the interruption…" That slithering voice crept back in his ears. If only he had his wand, if only he had kept it on his person tonight, he'd have ripped Voldemort's tongue out of his mouth. It was only another entry in a long list of mistakes. The final gaffe.

He could wandlessly summon his wand, but the dark lord would notice his use of magic, and it ran a deep risk of Robert being hurt, or worse. Even if it didn't, what good would a wand be when his son was the hostage of the most dangerous dark wizard of all time?

Fighting was not an option. Not anymore.

"But, Lord Voldemort does not leave loose ends." The doors to his study opened, and in came a black cloaked figure. His skin was as pale as snow, yet the veins visible on his face made him look like a corpse full of congealed blood. His eyes were bloodshot and serpent like, almost akin to those of a basilisk, yet eerily so, still human. It only added to his aura of fear.

How deep could a person be seduced by the dark arts, to an extent that one could say the dark arts were seduced by him? Evil Incarnate; that was what Tom Riddle Jr. was. He'd have to be careful to not refer to him like that, lest the last assured thing Norbert would see before his death would be his son's headless dancing corpse.

He chugged down the last bit of firewhiskey in his glass, calmed his nerves, and turned back from the fireplace to look in his son and their guest's direction. Voldemort had levitated his son and Lucretia's corpse into the room and gently placed them in a corner. _How noble of him._

He had to choose his words carefully; there could be no room for error. He had to ensure Robert's survival. "I thought you'd say that, you wouldn't be the greatest wizard to have ever lived if you didn't."

Was that a spark in his eyes just then _? Does he get off praise from his enemies? Is this the extent of his pride? Fucking creep._ "Nonetheless, will you listen to a soon to be a dead man's final wish? Is it within your power to grant it?" A huff? _God, this freak is so easy to manipulate_.

"There is nothing that Lord Voldemort cannot grant. Ask, and it shall be granted. I will honour the son of the great Gellert Grindelwald." Voldemort grinned, "I always respected him for coming so close to fulfilling his ambitions, yet he was no match for **my** greatness."

Here we go. "I would ask you to let me speak my last words to my son, and to grant him mercy by letting him live." His killer's grin vanished, and a calm look adorned his features.

Would it work? He didn't beg at his feet like most of his other victims, nor did he resist him in a futile attempt to kill him. It was all up to fate, and the whims of a madman.

_Both arseholes of the highest order._

In a surprising act, Voldemort smiled before bowing in an exaggerated manner as he brandished his wand; ugly thing it was, as grotesque as its retched master. "Of course, let it not be said that Lord Voldemort is without compassion." His smile widened, "I'll grant you some privacy, too. With your son." Voldemort turned his neck to gaze at his sniveling son, who looked like he was in shock from the horrifying ordeal as he clutched at his dead mother. "I'll be in the hallway. You have two minutes."

As soon as the dark lord had left, Norbert jumped to his feet and grabbed some empty flasks as he rushed towards his son. His weeping son raised his weak arms as he mewled out a sob. "P-Papa!"

Norbert's heart wrenched as he hugged his son. _Damn Voldemort to the seven hells_.

Norbert exhaled a breath he did not he had been holding in, "I'm so sorry son. I hope you can forgive me for this when you grow up." His eyes hardened as he leaned back, "Son. Listen closely. You have to focus, hey!" he shook Robert out of his hysteria. "The bad man will not harm you. When he leaves, people will come to get you. Talk to no one but Albus Dumbledore. Do you understand me? Albus Dumbledore, only."

Robert smiled as he sniffed, "T-the f-funny old man with t-the funny beard?"

His boy had relaxed a little. This would make it a bit easier. "Yes, Rob, the very same. Do one more thing for me, alright?" Rob looked up to him, still whimpering a little, "Give him these." Norbert wandlessly extracted his memories as he placed them in separate vials. "I love you, son." He kissed his son's forehead tenderly, for it would be the last time he'd ever be able to do it.

"I l-love y-you, too, p-papa." Norbert smiled at his son's reply, who managed to weakly smile back.

Norbert glanced at Lucretia's peaceful face. There was no permanent look of horror etched on her face. She probably didn't even notice the killing curse before it struck her. He smiled miserably, before schooling his features, he could not lose himself to despair again. It was necessary for Rob to see his father die on his feet, proud of his stance, as wrong as it was in the end.

It wasn't for the minds of five year olds to question right and wrong.

The doors opened again, this time they were opened with more gusto. Voldemort had a manic look on his face, as if he had been biding his time to raise his bloodlust.

 _How pathetic_.

"I'm afraid…" he raised his wand in Norbert's direction, a green beam dancing at its tips, "That time's up for goodbyes." Voldemort pointed his wand forward even as Robert screamed at him to stop. He had already seen one parent dead at the hands of that curse, and he was about to see it again.

Norbert grinned in the face of death.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

* * *

_**Alastor Moody's POV** _

_**Thursday 1** _ _**st** _ _**May, 1981 (Grindelwald Residence, River Piddle, Dorset, England, – Just after midnight)** _

He apparated onto the front lawn of the house. The dark mark was visible in the sky. A perimeter was set up, and he could see Auror Captain Gawain Robards shouting to direct the junior Aurors and the trainees to their duties. The damn bunch of fools were skittering all over the premises, and he could feel Robards's near disgust even from a distance. "Having fun with this sorry lot, Robards?" Moody grunted as he made his way over to his colleague.

Gawain was a tall, tough wizard in his late twenties. He had a diagonal cut across his face courtesy of Bellatrix Lestrange. As one of the Ministries' strongest Aurors, he was one of the few who could go toe to toe with the dark lord's most power followers, alongside fellow Aurors of legend such as himself, Amelia Bones, Rufus Scrimgeour, Jane Roberts, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Frank Longbottom and his wife, Alice Longbottom.

Robards nodded in greeting at his colleague, "Alastor." He jerked his head towards the hallway, "Head Auror Bones is in the study room. She's expecting you, and I reckon Albus Dumbledore will be here soon. A patronus was sent just now."

Alastor grunted and made his way inside, his staff making a thumping noise as it struck the cold wooden floor. His magical eye swirled rapidly as he stood outside the study room. _Two uses of the killing curse. His signature move. Damn fucker. At least it was swift for them, especially the kid._

He entered the study and saw the Grindelwald corpses on the floor next to each other. _Where's the kid? Separate room? Possible but not plausible.  
_  
There were no signs of a battle. This was an execution.

He saw Amelia make her way over to him, gesturing for him to follow as she made her way outside and up the stairs. They did not exchange any greetings, they didn't need to. "I presume you've already gathered everything?"

"Technology does have its advantages."

They had made their way up to the second floor, and Amelia led him to a bedroom where the third Grindelwald was sleeping on the bed. "I have no idea why he left the boy alive." Alastor commented.

Amelia hummed, "It's not his style, yes, but that megalomaniac probably did it to further prove his… grandeur."

"My left nut has more grandeur than that skull fucker."

"Rosier took the right one off, right?"

"Yeah, right before I jammed the remaining one up his arse." Amelia snorted as they went outside the room. "I heard from Robards that Dumbledore is on his way."

Amelia sighed, "The kid was damn near hysterical when the first responding team arrived. Had to put him under the sleeping charm to calm him down. The trainees tried to get him to talk, but he only said the names, "Dumbledore and Voldemort" repeatedly." A soft look adorned her eyes, "Just like Susan." She whispered forlornly.

Alastor said nothing but patted his colleagues shoulder. What happened to Edgar, Amelia's elder brother and his wife was nothing short of brutal, and their murder was surpassed in cruelty only by what happened to the Prewett twins. _Death Eater scum!_ A flash of fire nearly blinded them with its suddenness, but they were able to look away in time.

Albus Dumbledore and his ostentatiousness, a match made in hell.

This wasn't the kind, cheerful headmaster of Hogwarts before them, but the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. "Where is he?!" there was no twinkle in his blue eyes. They were as sharp as whetstones.

This was the wizard who had beaten Gellert Grindelwald, and the only wizard Lord Voldemort feared. The Dumbledore of old. The conqueror of Nurmengard.

"Inside, asleep, safe." Alastor pointed towards the room they had just exited, and that seemed to calm Albus, if only a little, but it was enough, given by the shaky breath Amelia released, who quickly excused herself to check on Robards and finish filing her report, leaving the two veterans of the Global Wizarding War alone.

"Don't worry about her, she's just not used to this side of yours. Hells, not many who are alive are used to it." Moody said to Dumbledore. "My condolences on the passing of your godson and his wife, Albus. They were good people." Dumbledore nodded in appreciation with a sad smile as they both made their way back into the room again.

A few moment of silence passed before Moody broke it again, "Are you going to tell him?"

"Tell who? And what?"

"You know who I'm talking about."

"Dear friend, there is no castle nor spell strong enough to hold Gellert. Despite the dismantling of his organization, he hears and sees everything from his prison." Albus reminded Alastor, who only grunted in response.

"The world isn't ready for both Gellert Grindelwald and Lord Voldemort, Albus, and frankly, neither are you." Alastor retorted.

Dumbledore smiled in response. "I've visited my old friend once every year since his fall to catch up for old time's sake. He will be devastated by this news, but he will not let his family name be dragged through the mud again."

Through the female line, the Grindelwalds were Godric Gryffindor's only remaining descendants. _Or descendant.  
_  
Alastor nodded, "I'll take your word on it. And what of the boy? Who will raise him? Obviously you can't. Does he have any relatives?"

Albus nodded back.

* * *

_**Nozéa Lestrange's POV** _

_**Thursday** **1st** **May, 1981 (Lestrange Manor, Versailles, France, - Dawn)** _

Was this her family's punishment? Was this their curse? To pay for the sins of their fathers for eternity? Would no generation of the Lestranges know peace ever again?

For nearly seventy years her the French branch of the Lestrange family had suffered. The line of Corvus Lestrange had ended long ago, with the deaths of her distance niece Leta Lestrange, and her father Corvus Lestrange IV and her infant brother, Corvus Lestrange V. Their misfortunes had begun when her distant ancestor, Corvus IV, then the head of his branch of the family used the imperius curse on Laurena Kama, forever disgracing their family with his horrendous crime.

She had thought herself destined to be the last member of a long and illustrious family line, the Lestrange family had commanded respect and prestige unsurpassed by any family in Magical France's entire history.

The Gages, the Perrots, and the Tremblays, ancient allies turned foes, surpassed her family in power only due to their greater numbers and combined wealth against her. They were distant relatives of hers through Corvus Lestrange IV's sisters and cousin, and waged a bitter feud against her due to her inheriting the fortune of their ancestor as Leta Lestrange had left it to her in her will.

No doubt they would have been rejoicing at the murders of her family. Soon she would be dead, too, and the greed of those families would finally be sated.

Then Regulus came into her life, and she was blessed with a child, something the healers had told her was close to impossible, and some measure of joy was reignited in her heart. A happiness so deep, even the sad demise of her husband to Dragon Pox did not dampen her spirits to the extent that they were at the deaths of her daughter and son-in-law and grandson.

She had cried herself into a despair at the age of seventy two. She did not think she had it in her to feel this much pain again, but she did not even know herself that well.

Her daughter, her son-in-law, her grandson, dear Robert, whom she had seen last on his birthday just a few days over a month ago at their house in England, with old acquaintances and friends such as Albus Dumbledore who was Norbert's Godfather, Olympe Maxime, Nicholas Flamel, and his wife, Perenelle Flamel.

The Head of the Bureau des Aurors, Alain Delacour and his wife, Apolline Delacour, Robert's godmother,  
were also there. Their young daughter, Fleur, was just a year younger than Robert. She smiled tearfully at the memory of the both of them pretending to duel with toy wands.

The Dumont family was also there, and their daughter, Aurélie, was a joy to look at with her perfect curtsies, while the apple of their father's eye, Davet, showed off his textbook knowledge of magic to the awed younger children.

She had thought her family untouchable due to their pureblood. Surely the dark lord, the embodiment of evil that he was, would have respected that?

He didn't.

Her son-in-law was descended from The Noble and Most Ancient House of Grindelwald, the single most prominent wizarding family in Central Europe before Gellert Grindelwald's crusade. His mother belonged to The Noble and Most Ancient House of Rosier, one of the most prominent wizarding families in magical France and Britain.

Her daughter was descended from The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black from her father's side, and The Noble and Most Ancient House of Lestrange through herself.

Her grandson was the face of the pureblood movement by all rights.

The dark lord did not care. Even the purebloods were just a means to an end for him.

To him, they were all cattle. When the Prewitts and the Bones were slaughtered, she thought that was because they fought against Voldemort. How wrong she was.

Nozéa choked back a sob. _Lucretia, Norbert, Robert… I am so sorry._

It was then that she heard Albus's voice calling for her from the floo. Despite her great sorrow, she had to talk to him. It would at least serve as a distraction for now. Plus, Albus wouldn't contact her right now if it wasn't a matter of the utmost importance. He had not yet sent his condolences, but given how busy he would have been at the moment, she expected he'd have dropped by in the morning.

She did not know it, but the oddness of the hour made her hope against all odds that a miracle had happened. That somehow, the news she heard on the late night radio was wrong.

She had to dare to hope. She had nothing left to lose. It was impossible for her heart to be broken beyond what it had already been broken into.

As she entered her living room, she saw Albus standing in the middle with a small bundle in his arms, and it was moving. Almost as if a child was breathing inside it.

It was as if the vitality of a Quidditch player had entered her weary body for a moment, for she did not remember nor care to remember how she was upon Dumbledore in the blink of an eye.

She was about to open her mouth, but Albus silenced her with a single gesture. She detected a foreign presence probing her mind, and she realised Albus was using legilimency to non-verbally communicate with her.

 _Robert is alive and well. He's under the influence of a sleeping charm. We need to talk about him._ _Take me to a bedroom so I can lay him to bed. My bones aren't what they used to be._

She led Albus to the closest bedroom on the ground floor where he gently placed Robert on the bed. As he withdrew, she got a glimpse of his face, tear stricken, pale, and an uneasy look on his face even as he dreamed.

It must have been a perpetual nightmare. God knew she was in one before she saw that her legacy was still alive.

She led the headmaster to the living room, where she instructed one of her house elves to bring them tea and delicacies.

The tears escaped her eyes again as she hugged her old friend. He said nothing, but he returned her hug with equal ferocity. She lost her daughter, he lost his godson. They were kin united by their sorrow.  
 _  
_"Nozéa." Albus started. She looked at his weathered face, as if he had aged twenty more years in the span of one night.

"We need to talk about Robert."

* * *

_**Albus Dumbledore's POV** _

_**Thursday 1st May, 1981 (Lestrange Manor, Versailles, France, – Dawn)** _

"Robert? What about him? Is he alright?"

Albus's heart was gripped in another tide of grief. How would he face Gellert again? What right did he have to face him again?

It was child's play for his old flame to break out of Nurmengard if he really wanted to. Time had tamed Gellert's spirit, but it didn't make him any weaker. The body could always be healed through the use of potions, it was the mind which made a wizard truly powerful.

Gellert Grindelwald was not the greatest Occlumens in history for no reason.

He had promised his dearest friend that he'd look after his son, the son whom Gellert had named as his godson when he had entrusted his care to him, a mere few hours after the death of Gellert's most trusted Acolyte turned wife, Vinda Rosier during his birth. Norbert, she had named him. The love his parents had for him was immense, and it was for his child's sake that Gellert surrendered towards the end of their legendary duel.

It was for his son that Gellert had held back from hurting innocents like when he had nearly burnt Paris to a smoldering ruin in 1927.

Time had taught Gellert Grindelwald remorse. Tom had undone all that in one night, Albus was sure of it. Norbert and his wife, dear sweet Lucretia were dead, and Robert had gone through what Albus would not wish on his worst enemy in a thousand years.

"Talk to me Albus!"

He gazed at Nozéa. The Lestrange matriarch was a woman of immense credibility and respect in the magical world, but she was supposed to enjoy her wizened years now, not raising a five year old traumatized child who had lost his parents. Still, she was his closest family member.

"Albus!" she raised her tone, her cheeks turning red from anger.

"Rob is not well." And she deflated just like that, and Albus felt guilt ridden once again, but this was a conversation which had to take place. For Robert's sake.

"W-what h-ha-happened to h-him?" Albus had never heard seen his friend stammer before.

The elves chose that moment to bring their tea and delicacies, and Nozéa graciously allowed him to collect his thoughts while the tea was served. He took a sip, "Robert has gone through immense psychological trauma." Nozéa gasped, "The dark lord murdered your daughter with a killing curse, and levitated her corpse and Robert while he made his way to Norbert in the study. He was helpless against Tom with Rob his hostage, and was killed soon after. Your grandson witnessed both murders and he was spared on a whim. That is Alastor Moody's assessment."

Nozéa was speechless, her eyes were wide, her mouth was open, yet no words came out. She made no sound. She just stared at him.

Albus felt sick to his stomach for twisting this fresh wound, yet it had to be done. _Dear God, forgive me.  
_ "It is my suggestion that we take him to St. Louis in Paris. I don't trust the staff at St. Mungos, they are vulnerable to infiltration by death eaters, and I do not wish to take any unnecessary risks. Hogwarts runs the same risk. Even the student body is compromised. A five year old child in the infirmary will raise red flags." A fire blazed in Nozéa's eyes for a moment, and it reminded Albus whom he was talking to.

"I will get in touch with Alain. He will have his best men guarding Robert at St. Louis. He owes me one, and the French are not as undermanned as the British are. War is ravaging all of Europe, but Britain has it worst." Her spirit dampened again, "Can we win Albus? Is there any stopping that demon from the seventh hell?"

Albus looked his friend straight in the eye, and when he felt he was gazing right into her soul he muttered his next words.

"We **will** win."

* * *

_**Apolline Delacour's POV  
** _   
_**Thursday 1** **st** **May, 1981 (St. Louis Hospital, Paris, France, – Noon)** _

The war had raged across mainland Europe for a few years now. They didn't have it as bad this time around as they did during Gellert Grindelwald's reign of terror, but it was still extremely chaotic. The Bureau des Aurors was taking the fight to the Death Eaters by fighting fire with fire, adopted from the head of Magical Britain's Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Bartemius Crouch Sr., and a shoe in for Minister of Magic. So were other ministries like the Russian, Italian, Spanish, and German ministries.

Voldemort had to be stopped at all cost, even if it seemed impossible that he wouldn't conquer Magical Britain at this point. They were facing the worst of it, and if (when) it fell, he'd then turn his complete attention to Magical Europe.

Her husband, the love of her life, Alain, was fighting day and night to keep their family safe, little Fleur safe, and countless others like her alive and protected. He had a strong sense of right and wrong, and that was what made her fall in love with him in the first place.

It was a rare thing, for a Veela to find a wizard or a witch immune to their charms. She was lucky to find her husband, and she considered herself blessed with every day that he came back to her and Fleur alive and well.

Unlike countless others.

Unlike Lucretia, Norbert, and little Rob.

Her heart ached strongly at the reminder that her two closest friends were no longer in this world, and that their son, whom she considered her son in every sense of the world, was left bereft of their presence. But she was also a Healer, one of the best Magical France had to offer, and right now, Robert needed her help. Albus and Nozéa would be here anytime now, and she could grieve later at home.

Five minutes later, both of them were there. Little Robert was standing beside Nozéa. She smiled at him and went forward to shake his hand, "Hello Robert, do you remember me, Auntie Apolline?" Robert just stared at the fireplace. _Faraway look in his eyes. Isn't making any eye contact._ She saw Nozéa's lips tremble but, she had to give her credit where it was due, she was holding herself together. Albus looked composed, even if his eyes didn't say the same.

They had to remain composed for Robert.

"Nozéa," she began and the older woman looked at her, "Could you please excuse us for a few moments? There are a few toys I've arranged for Robert to play with. They are on my desk." Nozéa nodded as she gestured for Robert to follow her. When he didn't respond, Nozéa gently and hesitantly reached out to touch his shoulder but quickly withdrew her hand when Robert shivered uncomfortably. He quickly followed her to her desk after that.

 _No verbal communication. An aversion to physical touch._ She gestured for Albus to follow her outside and into the room next door she often used for private discussions with the family members of her patients. When they sat down, they shared an uncomfortable silence for a few moments.

"I understand how heartbreaking this is, but he needs us to be strong for him right now. We know that the murders have affected him deeply, but we're still not sure how." He looked at her strongly, " **You** are the only one who can help him right now. Be strong." He gently urged.

Apolline took a deep breath, "It breaks my heart to even say the words, Albus…" she paused, "But, I have heavy suspicions that he is suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder."

The headmaster's eyes went wide, "At his age… Is that even possible?" She nodded sadly.

"It's possible to develop it at an even younger age. Robert went through an extremely harrowing event. From what I've been told, the dark lord killed Lucretia and Norbert right in front of his eyes, and levitated their corpses alongside him." She pointed towards the room in which Nozéa was playing with Robert, "I saw three symptoms from our brief interaction so far. A faraway look in his eyes, not making any eye contact, no verbal communication, and an aversion to physical touch." She looked the headmaster square in the eye, "Albus, those are textbook symptoms of PTSD." She stated.

Albus nodded tiredly, "I had the same doubts. He remained under the effects of the sleeping charm for nine hours after witnessing his parent's murders. He was hysterical when he was found by the Aurors, and we had to give him a few drops of the Calming Draught before bringing him here. Even in his sleep,"  
Albus continued, "he looked very uncomfortable, and I think he was reliving that experience in his nightmares."

Apolline needed to think this over. After nearly a minute, she spoke, "We'll have to run some proper diagnostic tests. There are spells which can give us an idea of any internal injuries or changes in his brain which might tell us more, although I think it is unlikely that there is any damage at this stage. If we can nip this in the bud, it might go away in a few years, and he'll be able to live a normal life."

She stopped to look at Albus, "I will have to ask him some questions to gauge his responses to make a better prognosis. Alone."

Albus nodded.

* * *

Five minutes later, Albus and Nozéa were in the other room while she was alone with Rob in her office. Playing with his new toys had lightened his mood, albeit barely. He was sitting on one of the couches she had placed in the corner for therapy sessions with her clients. Rob was still playing with one of his toys, a wooden centaur.

She sat opposite Rob, but he did not acknowledge her, as if she were invisible to him. "Good afternoon, Robert." She greeted him gently, but he did not deign her with a response. _Deliberately, it appears. Or is he lost in his memories?_

"Do you like Centaurs?" Apolline asked, but Rob continued to ignore her, "I met a centaur chieftain once."

Rob stilled at that, which only proved he was ignoring her on purpose.

"His name was Chiron, one of the most renowned centaurs in history. Would you like to know more about him?" Robert gave no response for a few seconds, but he gave a slight nod. He still didn't raise his eyes, his entire attention fixed on his toy.

"He was very intelligent, civilized, and kind, and taught heroes like Achilles, Ajax, Odysseus, and many others." She continued, "He was a great healer, astrologer, seer, and teacher." Apolline smiled wistfully, "Poetry, music, and stargazing were his hobbies."

"Stars…?" Robert finally whispered. He found his voice, and his lips quivered for a second. "Mama liked looking at stars…"

_I know, sweetie. I know…_

"Oh?" Apolline asked, keeping her own anguish at bay for her godson's sake. "Did you ever look at the stars with her, honey? I often spent long hours gazing at the stars with Chiron."

"Gazing? What does that mean?" Robert softly asked. Apolline smiled warmly at him.

"It is another word for looking."

"Oh." He murmured. "Mama… where is she?" he softly asked as he continued to look at his toy. "Auntie, I had a nightmare… But, I can't see her… I only see her in my nightmares."

"Why don't you tell me about this nightmare, Robert? Maybe I can help you?" Apolline asked, she had she didn't want to mess up this opportunity, otherwise, he'll shut me out again. _He's still dazed, and if I confirm his fears, I'll lose the chance to reach out to him._

Robert continued playing with his centaur, and Apolline vehemently cursed the dark lord. This wasn't the first case she had seen because of this thrice damned war.

But to see her own godson like this affected her like in a way she had not thought possible.

Robert was showing clear signs of PTSD, although it was too early to diagnose such a severe disorder, she couldn't ignore such prominent signs. Robert was old enough and smart enough to realise what had happened to his parents, but at the same time, he was too young to realise the reason behind it.

No five year old could ever hope to understand that monsters like the dark lord existed; monsters that killed simply because they wanted to, they could, and because no one could stand up to them.

Robert stopped playing with his toy. His lips quivered again, and his shoulders shook, but no tears came out yet, even as his eyes reflected his sorrow.

After a minute, he opened up, "I-In my nightmares, I saw myself flying."

Apolline latched onto this chance, "Go on Robert, you're doing great." She encouraged him as Robert gulped in anxiety.

"Flying next to me was mama, and her eyes were closed. She looked peaceful." Tears formed in his eyes, "T-t-then," he stuttered, "her e-eyes o-o-op-opened… and they were completely black." He looked at her, and his eyes were full of unadulterated fear.

"Her mouth opened, and s-snakes came out of it. T-th-they crawled all over m-me! They entered my mouth, they entered my eyes, they entered my ears, and they bit me and it hurt so much auntie! It hurt so much!" Robert was sharing his pain loudly now, as Apolline's eyes widened in shock. _Oh my God… Robert… you poor child._

"A-and t-the w-worst part was," Robert gulped as he shook violently, "mama was now flying right above me and she was laughing! She was laughing at me!" Robert cried, "Her skin was coming off her and t-then…"

"Then she scratched my face so badly it started to bleed! I told her, 'Mama! Mama, it hurts! Please stop!' "But, she didn't stop! She continued scratching until my skin came off!" Robert was hysterical now.

" **I SCREAMED AND SHE LAUGHED! I SCREAMED AND SCREAMED AND SCREAMED AND SHE LAUGHED AND LAUGHED AND LAUGHED!** " Robert suddenly seized as if the very breath was knocked out of him, and he started shaking as if he were having a seizure.

One moment Apolline was sitting on her couch, horrified, as she listened to Robert scream his heart out. The next moment she was administering a calming draught and casting the sleeping charm as Albus and Nozéa came barging into the room.

The last thing she heard him whisper before he went unconscious was seeing two flashes of green.

* * *

Author's Notes: Well, the first chapter is done. I'll be updating this every ten days, or so. I've got a job to balance, and I just got done with my degree after a very stressful three year time period. Let me get back in the hang of it, and I'll try to please you more. Do follow and favorite this, and do leave your reviews.

Regarding the ever popular and inevitable question of ships, I'll announce that in a later chapter.


	2. 2. - Preparations

Wow. I did not expect such a great response from the readers, to be honest. Thank you so much for that. It really encouraged me. To some who expressed their reservations about this story being another SI, it's not. Nor am I taking away anything from Harry, LMAO. He has his own arc, Ron has his own arc, Fleur has her own arc, Robert has his own arc, and many characters have their own unique stories.

* * *

_**For The Greater Good** _

_**Chapter 2 – Preparations** _

_**Apolline Delacour's POV** _

_**Monday, 27** _ _**th** _ _**December, 1982 (St. Louis Hospital, Paris, France – Noon)** _

It had been more than a year and half since Rob had moved to France under Nozéa's care. It wasn't an easy period. There was no joy in their lives. There was only misery, and there seemed to be no end to it.

Rob had withdrawn into a shell. He mostly responded by nodding or shaking his head if he was asked a question, and he didn't initiate conversation with any of the adults, bar herself. But that was only because she was a trained mind healer who knew how to get him to open up. Nozéa still couldn't manage to talk to Rob about what happened without bursting into tears.

She was extremely thankful for the Flamels coming over regularly to check on her. Perenelle had taken to helping Nozéa by helping her improve her Occlumency skills and talking to her. It wasn't just Rob who needed support, others were in need of help, too.

_Merde! Even I need to talk to a mind healer at times. This work isn't for the faint hearted._

Rob liked to talk about his parents. It was the only time he made an effort to smile, even as he shivered in anger, fear, sorrow, and happiness as he remembered Lucretia and Norbert. He talked about the last birthday he celebrated with them. He talked about the presents he had received. He talked about being tucked into bed by his mother. He talked about running to his father and crying when he got hurt playing with Fleur and Val and Aurélie. He talked about nightmares, the flashes of green, and the silence that followed in between the Dark Lord leaving him alone with his dead parents, and the Aurors arriving on the scene. He talked about dark things, darker thoughts, and even darker terrors which haunted his mind.

The things he talked about haunted her at night, but she did her duty nonetheless. Rob was her son, and she was the only one who could help him.

Today, however, she had been equally surprised and equally confused. Rob did not express any fear nor sadness when he sat in front of her. He seemed agitated, angry, and she also felt a smudge of hatred emanating from him. But it didn't feel like was thinking about his nightmares this time.

No, this was something else. Something else was bothering him. It aroused her curiosity as his therapist. This was a major development.

"Good afternoon, Rob. How are you feeling today?" Apolline smiled at Rob who greeted her back. Getting him to say his greetings in itself took her two months and eight sessions. Sometimes he even told her how he was feeling. Today wasn't that day. It meant something had happened. _He seemed more cheerful than this in the previous session._

"Did you enjoy Christmas? Did you like your gifts? Which one was your favorite?" He nodded his head once but he didn't say anything beyond that.

She was fishing for the issue. She could try again; they had plenty of time yet. _Maybe this will work._

"Did you have fun playing with Fleur, Aurélie, and Val at our house?" Rob tensed at that. _Success!_

"I-I did." He managed to speak. Apolline raised her eyebrows at him to signify her curiosity. _Something happened during the Christmas party at our house. That is what is making him angry. Come to think of it, Fleur and Aurélie were upset about something, but they refused to talk about it. Could it be the same thing?_

"You seem stressed about something, Rob. Did something happen between you and the other children?" she enquired with a comforting smile to convey to Rob that it was a safe place to make him feel easy and relaxed. Rob nodded.

"Make I ask what happened?" she asked.

Rob was silent for a few seconds but then he spoke softly, "Val said something to Fleur and Apolline." _Oh no… he must have… Alain and I told Vidal Alaina about keeping Val away from the Perrot, Gage, and Tremblay boys._ She didn't feel angry at Val. He was a child and he didn't know any better. It was the adults who were under a duty to teach their children to be better.

"Did he call them filthy half-breeds?" Rob looked at her in surprise, an emotion he hadn't shown before.

"How did you know that?" Apolline smiled sadly at her Godson.

"It isn't the first time a Veela has been called that, and I'm afraid it won't be the last." Rob looked at her in confusion. _Right. Time to for a lesson._

She went on to note the different beings which existed in the world. Humans, Goblins, Giants, Vampires, Elves, Veela, Werewolves, Centaurs, and the Merpeople. He was especially fascinated by the concept of intermarriages in between the different species, and it made Apolline happy to see her Godson was an open minded child with a deep curiosity towards learning. Rob wasn't angry anymore, but confused and curious. It was better than being angry, in her opinion.

"But Auntie, why did Val say that to Fleur and Aurélie? Why did he make them cry?"

She sighed sadly, "Because not everyone is as liberal as us, Rob."

"Liberal? What does that mean, Auntie?" _I should probably keep this simpler for him. He's too young to understand these things properly, yet._

"Open-minded, accepting." She offered and Rob made an 'oh' sound which made her want to squeal in delight but she was able to control herself. This was a far better session than she had hoped. Perhaps the best on yet.

"You see, Rob, even amongst humans, there are so many different types. Muggles, the one I told you about who can't use magic. Us, who can use magic, and squibs, who can't use magic but are born to those who can. People hate those who are different, and Fleur and Aurélie are just different than others, but not greater or lesser than them. They're equal, but different." She explained and Rob gained a contemplative look on his face, as if he was trying to make sense of it, even if it wasn't making a whole lot of it. _  
_  
"Are you a Veela, too, Auntie Apolline? What about Auntie Céleste?" She smiled and nodded.

"She is one, too. Our mothers are Veela, and our fathers are Human. It makes us half-Veela/half-Human." Apolline explained with a smile to Rob who returned it. _Be still, my beating heart._

"But Auntie, Val isn't like that! He's nice most of the time. I still don't understand why he said it." Rob protested.

"Rob, right now I'm explaining to you what is right and what is wrong, aren't I?" she questioned and Rob nodded. "Somethings weren't explained to Val. Rather, they weren't explained that well to him. He didn't know any better, and that was why he said those bad words. It doesn't make him bad, you're right. But it still has to be corrected, you understand that, don't you?" her Godson nodded at that.

"Did someone ever call you that, Auntie? Do people treat you differently because you are a half-Veela?" he asked her politely. She had expected that question and nodded her head.

"Yes, when I was a child, but not since I grew up. Now they just stare at me, or give me bad looks when they think I'm not watching and things like that." Despite her best effort to remain calm and not show her emotions, she failed.

Rob picked up on that, got up from his seat and walked towards her. He hugged her sitting form, and she could feel his hesitation, but he did it nonetheless. _He thought I'm sad and angry and he went out of his way to comfort me for it._ This was the first time he had initiated physical contact with her.

She warmly returned his hug. _My brave Rob. My brave son.  
_

* * *

_**Robert Grindelwald's POV** _

_**Tuesday, 24** _ _**th** _ _**March, 1987 (** _ _**Lestrange Manor,** _ _**Versailles, France, – Evening)** _

He'd woken up late today. It was his eleventh birthday. His Godfather, Nicholas Flamel and his wife, Perenelle Flamel, had arrived the previous night. They were nearly seven hundred years old, Rob could never keep count, but he supposed he should; old people were very touchy about their age. _What does it even matter when you're both nearly fossils?_

Uncle Vidal, Auntie Alaina, Val, Auntie Apolline, Uncle Alain, Fleur, Gabrielle, Uncle Francois, Auntie Céleste, Aurélie, and Grandpa Dumbledore would be here anytime soon, and he had to look presentable before them, as the heir to House Lestrange, and as the young Lord of House Grindelwald.

Manners and customs were important, as Grandma Nozéa kept reminding him. It would also help impress Grandpa Vidal; his Father's Uncle from his Mother's side. He was a stern man.

He saw their use, but he didn't understand why other families like the Gages, the Perrots, and the Tremblays kept going on about their views of people of mixed heritages. Robert did not share those views, and he believed everyone had their purpose and value in life. He was lucky his Grandmother had taught him to value everyone, and to get ahead in life without racial or blood discrimination. After all, the Delacour and Dumont kids were all ¼ Veela. He had seen how some people sneered at them behind their backs, and it disgusted him.

Magic was magic, and non-humans like Veela, Elves, Goblins, Centaurs, and Vampires, all deserved to use it freely.

 _Although_ , he thought with a smirk, _she never said anything about not manipulating people or beings. Or lying to their faces with a smile on one's face_. She would've made an excellent Slytherin had she went to Hogwarts instead of Beuxbatons.

As far as he was concerned, he'd freely manipulate anyone he could without looking at their blood status or species. Slytherin was the house he wished to be sorted into. He had heard it rewarded greatness from Grandpa Dumbledore, and it had piqued his interest.

In a few months, his acceptance letter from Hogwarts would arrive. From there, he'd be able to learn more about magic. Rob was very excited about formally starting his education, despite the head start he had received.

Grandpa Nick had started teaching him the basics of magic two years ago when he had turned nine. He still didn't get his own wand, but he was allowed to use a spare practice wand to practice his basic spell work.

Fleur, Aurélie, Val, and Rob had started learning magic at roughly the same time, with only Fleur being a year younger than them. Rob had been tutored by the Flamel patriarch, Fleur and Aurélie by Grandma Perenelle, and Val had been tutored by his Father himself, who had the strictest of standards when it came to learning.

Davet, Aurélie's older brother, was the one Rob looked up to, though. He was the oldest of them all. He was close to finishing his 3rd year at Beuxbatons, and an exceptional student. Top of his class, highly intelligent, a once in a generation prodigy at Charms, Alchemy, Potions, and exceptional at every subject he took at Beuxbatons, he was highly praised by everyone who knew him.

He was a good duelist too, and Rob was never able to beat him, although he had come close to taking him by surprise the last time they had dueled. The adults had congratulated him for that, for having done so great against a 3rd year who had a good three years on him, his own wand to channel his magic more efficiently, and he hadn't even attending school yet.

High praise indeed, but Robert was not going to be satisfied until he had beaten him, and more. _One day I'll be the best duelist in the world._

He was sad that Davet wasn't able to attend his birthday, but his older brother in all but blood and name was at school. _Duty calls, I suppose. Plus, from what he mentioned in his last letter, the fairer sex has been showering him with attention lately. Le crétin (The bastard! He probably loves it._

Rob grinned goofily to himself. _I wonder if Hogwarts will be like that for me, too. If they don't run away at the sound of my surname, that is_. His thought slightly dampened at that.

Oh well, another reason why Slytherin might not be that bad, given its track record with dark wizards and witches. It seemed far more… open minded towards certain notions.

A knock on his door distracted him from the setting sun in the sky he was looking at from his bedroom's window. "Come in, Irma." He called out.

A house elf dressed in a maids robes walked in and bowed, "Master Grindelwald, Mistress Lestrange has sent Irma to retrieve you. The guests are about to arrive, and Mistress wants you to formally greet them." At Hogwarts, he would be Lord Grindelwald and he had to act a certain way as befitting the Lord of a Noble and Most Ancient House, and the heir of another.

Rob smiled, yet he didn't turn away from the window, "You never greet me with my name." he mock pouted, and he could feel Irma stifle her laughter.

Irma smiled as she raised her head, "It's Irma's duty to greet you as your rank deserves, Master." Rob turned around at that and walked to Irma who beamed at him. He gently fondled her head as her smile widened.

"One day you'll greet me with as Rob."

"Good luck, Master Grindelwald."

Rob snorted in amusement before Irma hugged him. Her small arms barely reached his thighs as his five 'three height was a bit more than two feet for him. He returned the hug as the elf gushed his praises.

Soon, they were downstairs in the living room and standing before his Grandmother, the Lestrange matriarch. She was seventy eight years old, but still as formidable as ever. _Although her back might protest that point._

"You're thinking about my back."

"Merde!" Nozéa smacked Rob's arm with her cane, and smirked as Rob yelped.

"One, don't be crass. Two, practice your Occlumency." Rob grumbled but suddenly grinned at his Grandmother with a mock two finger salute, as Nozéa frowned.

"Be serious." She scowled.

"But I'm Robert, not Sirius. He's in Azkaban! Is that what you think of me, my Lady? Tu blesses mon cœur et mon âme (You hurt my heart and my soul)." Rob whined.

"Je vais faire plus mal que ça (I will hurt more than that)!" her scowl deepened.

* * *

_**Nozéa Lestrange's POV  
** _

_**Tuesday, 24** _ _**th** _ _**March, 1987 (** _ _**Lestrange Manor,** _ _**Versailles, France, – Evening)** _

Her grandson was extremely talented; some would say he was beyond prodigious for his age, but by all that was holy, he was an annoying little shit when no one was around. Then again, this was a side he had reserved only for the select few who had a place in his heart.

At that moment, green flames burst from the floo in the manor's living room where they were supposed to stand in waiting for their guests. She was almost impressed at how swiftly Rob schooled his features before he greeted Albus, who was apparently the first to arrive. Rob formally greeted Albus with a bow,  
"Welcome to Lestrange Manor, Grandpa Albus." Nozéa wasn't sure if he was being serious or making a joke. His tone was that neutral.

Albus bowed back, before grabbing him in a warm hug, laughing mirthfully. He then moved on to the ball room to join his old friends, the Flamels.

He was followed soon after by the Rosiers, then the Dumonts, and then the Delacours in quick succession.

Rob had practiced his manners and remembered his duties well, for he bowed before the men and shook their hands, before bowing before their wives and kissing their hands. He repeated the same gestures and added in kisses on the cheeks with a wider smile for Fleur and Aurélie who blushed, beamed and curtsied, and an even greater smile and a kiss on the forehead and cheeks for Gabrielle, who happily laughed and clapped her hands, who was just two years old and stood close to Apolline. The girls curtsied before her, and she acknowledged them with a warm smile full of joy, especially at Gabrielle.

All three of them were the spitting images of their Mothers. Fleur and Gabrielle looked nearly identical. The former had long, silvery-blonde hair that fell almost to her waist, had shiny, large, deep blue eyes, fair skin, and very white, and even teeth. The latter looked exactly the same, except she had emerald green eyes like her Father and her hair only came till her neck. Aurélie had light, fair skin, shoulder length dark brown hair, and deep blue eyes. She did not have the typical silvery-blonde hair that most Veela offspring had, but that only served to enchant her beauty. Her smile could dazzle an entire crowd, and she had one the most pleasant temperaments Nozéa had ever seen.

All three of them had angelic faces, and would grow up to be extremely beautiful, more so than even some pure blooded Veela. She loved all three of them as her own granddaughters. They had brought a lot of joy in Rob's life ever since he had come to live in France.

Gabrielle was the apple of Rob's eye, and she brought out the best in him. Ever since she was born, Robert had smiled more often, laughed more often, and cried less often in his sleep, and Nozéa couldn't be more grateful for it. For the lament of death could only be replaced by the epic of life, and that was what Gabrielle was for her grandson since her daughter and son-in-law had been murdered.

By the time her thoughts had ended, Rob had already finished greeting Valerius, his first cousin once removed through his Father's Uncle, Lord Vidal Rosier. Valerius was smart, respectful, ambitious, and the apple of his parents' eye. He was Rob's best friend, and she loved him like her own grandson.

After the adults finished greeting each other, they moved to join the Flamels and Albus in the ball room.

* * *

_**Albus Dumbledore's POV** _

_**Tuesday, 24** _ _**th** _ _**March, 1987 (** _ _**Lestrange Manor,** _ _**Versailles, France, – Night)** _

Albus wasn't one for drinking, but tonight was a special occasion. Amidst friends who were as good as family, it was called for. Joining him on the balcony overlooking the gardens were Nicholas and Perenelle. The Delacours were in the living room with Nozéa. The adult Dumonts and Rosiers had left for their abodes.

All the children were playing in the gardens. They were all staying the night, and Albus could see the joy on Robert's face from afar as he sipped on his firewhiskey. It burned its way down his throat, and Albus loved it.

Nicholas joined him in leaning against the railing, "He looks happy. He smiles more often now." He commented on seeing Rob laugh as he twirled Fleur around. The young Veela was giggling as they danced together. Aurélie was dancing with Valerius, beaming at her partner, and even the normally aloof Rosier heir was smiling. "They look so beautiful together."

Albus laughed, "Thinking of playing match maker again, are you?" Nicholas snorted in response as Albus chuckled even more. "How is Rob progressing?"

"In what?"

"In everything. It's been a while since I received an update, and who better to ask than you, _old_ friend?" Albus joked, as Nicholas flipped him off before sipping on his drink.

Nicholas stayed silent for a few seconds, "He's a genius, Albus." Nicholas began, "He takes to magic like a fish does to water. He just turned eleven years old, yet I've never seen any child with such talent in all my years. Whatever I've taught him, he's mastered it all."

"Define 'mastered'." Albus's interest was piqued.

"Rob's learnt every spell taught in the first three years of Hogwarts's syllabus, and he's already practicing fourth and fifth year material. He's started practicing how to cast spells non-verbally and wandlessly. He's just eleven years old Albus, and with the determination that he's taking to his studies, he might master both before he begins his fourth year." Albus was taken aback.

"He hasn't gotten his own wand yet, has he?" Albus asked. Nicholas shook his head.

"No. The practice wand I gave him felt a bit cold to his touch, yet he somehow managed to make it respond to his will."

"Describe the wand's properties."

"Ash. Eleven inches. Unicorn hair. Unyielding." Albus's neck turned at breakneck speeds towards Nicholas, who shrugged his shoulders. "I told you he's gifted."  
"But that's impossible! That combination couldn't possibly let anyone other than its original owner utilise its power. Least of all a child who hasn't even begun at Hogwarts yet!"

The ancient wizard smiled, "Come now, my dear student. Did you forget the first lesson I taught you?"

Albus gained a reflective look in his eye as he slowly turned back to gaze at the children playing in the gardens. "You kept reminding me how I am the very embodiment of magical intent, so no, I didn't forget."

Nicholas nodded, "His intent to better himself is far stronger than anyone I've ever met, and his commitment to improve is on the level of his Father, yourself, Gellert, and, dare I say, even Tom."

Albus slumped as he sighed deeply, he suddenly looked even older than he was, "And whose fault is that? That a child supposed to enjoy life is driven to focus so much on improving himself? And for what purpose? To gain vengeance from a dead man?" he bitterly said. "If only I ha-" he was rudely interrupted by the sound of Nicholas snorting.

His glare made the Flamel patriarch look at him in surprise, "Oh, now you suddenly decide to lose that fucking twinkle in your eye? Sweet Jesus! You are so ridiculous." He mocked as Albus's glare intensified. "Oh come off of it, seriously, look at him closely!" They had switched and now Robert was dancing with Aurélie and Fleur was dancing with Valerius.

A muggle song was playing on the gramophone, one that Robert had sung occasionally, Don't Stop Believin' by an American band called Journey. Albus smiled fondly as he remembered attending opera shows in muggle London with Gellert during end of the nineteenth century. Before everything started going downhill.

"Does he look like he's not having fun? He's got two Veela eating off of his hands and you think he's not doing well? Have you gone senile?" Nicholas shook his head, "You worry too much, Albus. He's fine. I've trained him in how to use Occlumency to protect his mind and calm himself. He's been practicing it for nearly a year now. It's done wonders for his health." Nicholas assured him.

"What about his nightmares? He was having them every other week last year."

"He hasn't had one in over six months." Albus nodded at that. _This is good news, very good news. I guess I was too worried, after all. However, one can never be too cautious. If time has taught me anything, it's that. I will keep a close eye over Robert's state of mind when he comes to Hogwarts._

"You've done well, old friend. His parents made no mistake in making you his godfather." Nicholas bowed in appreciation, before he quickly finished his drink in on gulp, and sighed in pleasure as it burned its way down his throat.

"I aim to please, as always."

"Nozéa also told me he's picked up on your sense of humour."

"And they say the stone is my most prized possession. Some people, huh?

"Touché."

"Now who's the one sounding old, eh? Wait, why are you looking at me like that? Is it something on my face? Merde! She's behind me isn't she?" Albus tuned out his quirky friend as he turned to mitigate Perenelle, who had stormed over to give her husband an ear lashing over drinking more than one glass. She'd been counting.

This was why he didn't marry and was looking forward to the next great adventure. _Imagine being married to someone for more than six hundred years. Merde, indeed!  
_

* * *

_**Fleur Delacour's POV** _

_**Thursday, 30** _ _**th** _ _**July 1987 (Place Cachée, Paris, France – Evening)  
** _

She was both excited and disheartened at the same time; excited for Aurélie and Val who'd be going off to Beuxbatons in a month, and disheartened because she still had to wait for a year to join them, and Rob was going off to Hogwarts. She was excited for him, too, she really was, but, he was her best friend. He was leaving her.

Well, he wasn't. But it still hurt.

A little over four months ago, it seemed like a joke. He had lived in France for more than six years now. She had always thought he'd go to Beuxbatons, and she'd follow him in a year. Six years with him, Aurélie, Val, it seemed like a distant dream now that they were shopping in Place Cachée.

Aurélie and Val had taken it better than her. They were disappointed, of course, but they didn't take it personal like she had.

Aurélie and Valerius were currently at Cosme Acajor's wand shop to get their wands. Maman and Auntie Céleste were at Maison Capenoir, right next door, looking for some new clothes of the latest fashion trends. That left her alone with Rob at K. Rammelle's Enchantée, with Rob's house-elf Irma close by in case they needed anything. They were sitting in one of the corner booths, reserved well in advance by maman.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she saw Rob looking at her intensely, "What eez eet?" she asked softly. Rob frowned at her.

"You're doing it again, and you haven't even touched your food."

"Doing what? And I'm not 'ungry."

Robert wiped his mouth with a handkerchief, "Overthinking about my decision to choose Hogwarts over Beuxbatons. And you're lying to me, you were talking about having the Bouillabaisse all morning." He said as he looked at her again, "Fleur, we talked about why this has to happen." Rob softly reminded Fleur as she scoffed.

"And am I supposed to just accept eet like zat? To be left alone 'ere, away from my best friend?" her cheeks flushed in anger as her eyes hardened, "I don't want you to go." she grumbled.

Rob looked at her tenderly, "I have to go." He softly replied.

"Well, zen I need you to stay!" Fleur said loudly and then her shoulders slumped as if the fight was knocked out of her already, "Please don't go." She whimpered as her eyes grew teary before she quickly wiped at them.

Rob looked at her for a few seconds and then without saying anything, he got up from his seat and moved across the table to sit next to Fleur. She turned to look at him with a pleading look in her eyes, before Rob took her in his arms and tightly hugged her. She struggled against him initially, not wanting his pity, but when he pulled back and placed his hands on her cheeks and leaned his head forward against her forehead, she couldn't help but relax. "I have to go Fleur, my Parents went to Hogwarts. I want to share this connection with them. Your acceptance of this would mean the world to me, do you know that?" his voice was so soothing she couldn't help but nod in acceptance as she weakly smiled at him. He smiled back at her and he kissed her cheeks. She blushed lightly.

Robert had this way of knowing what to say or do around her. He was the only one who could calm her down when she was upset. Even maman and papa relied on him to calm her down when was really angry, and only came to talk her after she had settled down.

He was like her other half. _I want 'im to be my other 'alf. 'e's not like ze other boys. 'e doesn't treat me differently because I'm a Veela, and 'e loves me and Gabrielle and Aurélie very much, and maman and papa love 'im, too. Maman 'elped Lady Nozéa raise 'im. She thinks of 'im as 'er son. Eef we get married, 'e will be 'er son-in-law._

Fleur heard Rob say something and she was distracted from her thoughts. "Did you say anything?" she asked and Rob chuckled as he let go of her cheeks and grinned. He was about to repeat himself, when the bell at the door rang due to the door opening and Aurélie and Val walked in and towards their table. Aurélie, the clumsy girl that she was nearly knocked into a waitress who grumbled at her to be careful, and she apologized with a curtsy as she twirled for her. The waitress smiled, her bad mood going away instantly, and she walked away, completely missing Aurélie blowing her a silent raspberry.

_When weel she grow up? Why does she get to be immature and still go on to enjoy Beuxbatons before me? Life ees not fair. Ughhh!_

"Bonjour (Hello) Aurélie, Val." Rob gave a smile to Aurélie who beamed back at him, and Val nodded at him. "Did you get your wands yet?"

Aurélie gained an excited glint in her eye as she brandished her wand, Fleur could see the happiness on Aurélie's face, and seeing it mellowed out her jealousy a bit. It wasn't right to be envious of her friends. Her time would come soon enough. Rob was now trying to guess the properties of her wand. He was always the most sensitive to magic out of their age group.

"Unicorn hair, most likely. It suits your gentle and kind nature." Aurélie smiled, indicating Rob guessed correctly, and motioned for him to continue. Rob was twirling her wand in his hands, trying to feel the wand. He was curious about every form of magic, even wandlore, although he wasn't good at it.

"I have no idea which wood is this. I know of just seven, and this isn't one of them." Rob gave up after a few minutes. Aurélie giggled.

"It's Willow, eleven inches, and nice and supple in nature. Best suited for healing out of all wand woods. I want to be the best alchemist in the world one day, and this wand will help me with potions and Herbology and alchemy." Rob gained a contemplative look on his face at that.

"I guess that makes sense, you've trained with Grandma Perenelle for nearly two years now. I'm certain you'll blow everyone at Beuxbatons away with your talent." Aurélie brightened up at and leaned forward to land multiple kisses all over Rob's face at that, who grinned goofily, making everyone laugh at his antics. "You're nice and supple, too. I guess Ballet lessons did pay off." Even Val snorted in laughter at that.

Fleur turned to Val. He was a handsome boy nearly as tall as Rob, but a bit more muscular than him. He had fair skin a shade darker than her own, emerald green eyes like her Father and Gabrielle, and jet black hair like his Father. He had a very handsome face, and Fleur could easily see why Aurélie had a crush on him, just like she had one on Rob. "What about your wand, Val?" she asked him. He smiled with pride as he presented it.

"Ebony, thirteen inches, Phoenix feather, and quite rigid in nature."

Rob laughed at that, "Just like its master." Val smirked at that, giving a mock two finger salute in response.

Listening to everyone laugh put Fleur's mind at ease. _Maybe I'm just overreacting. We'll be alright, I'm sure of it.  
_

* * *

_**Robert Grindelwald's POV** _

_**Friday, 31** _ _**st** _ _**July 1987 (Diagon Alley, London, England, Great Britain - Afternoon)** _

Paris had a nice magical business hub, but Hogwarts had a specific list of books and uniforms and cauldrons which were only available at Diagon Alley. Rob had heard from the adults that the Potions Professor, Severus Snape, was the harshest out of all the Professors, and he was also the Head of House Slytherin. Disappointing him was not an option, considering that Slytherin was the house he was aiming for.

London's Wizarding Quarter was divided in three districts; the upper, middle and lower districts. The upper district was formally comprised of the more expensive Diagon Alley South Side; also known as the higher upper district, which was completely comprised of buildings owned by the pureblood families of wizarding Britain, and Diagon Alley North Side; also known as the lower upper district, which was mostly owned comprised of buildings owned by Gringotts and the pureblood families, who leased them to many businesses. A small portion of this section of Diagon Alley was owned by other wizarding families who had gained wealth over the decades.

The middle district comprised of Horizont Alley and Carkitt Market. This was the section which was comprised of buildings owned by muggle-borns and half-blood families, but mostly by Gringotts.

The lower district was completely comprised of Knockturn Alley, and it was the largest section of London's Wizarding Quarter.

Grandma Nozéa had taken him to The Leaky Cauldron in the lower upper district for lunch. She usually didn't frequent such establishments, preferring to dine at one of the fancier establishments in the higher upper district, but she said it'd be good for him to get to know more about the more frequented shops in Diagon Alley. He trusted her judgement in such matters.

The bartender, Tom, was a nice enough man. He was hunched back, had very few teeth in his mouth, and the few which were still hanging in there were extremely yellow. _Beautiful, really._

They had ordered deer game pie, alongside some mint tea and iced water. Lady Lestrange wouldn't be caught dead ordering butterbeer.

They were sipping tea after finishing their main meal when Rob heard his Grandmother speak his name. He looked up at her, "Yes, Grandma?"

"After we're finished with the purchases for today, I'll take you to Gringotts to officially hand over your vault key for the… _Grindelwald_ accounts." Rob nodded at her whispering the name towards the end, he was expecting this. Keeping a low profile was preferable. They did not need the extra attention so early on into his return to Wizarding Britain.

As per wizarding law, the assets of wizards and witches under the age of eleven were looked after by their guardians, and in a situation where a guardian was not available, it was the goblins at Gringotts who personally managed their accounts.

Which was a nice way to say that they were fucked financially in the long run. The goblins were notorious for stealing from unclaimed accounts as there were no beneficiaries who could sue them via the Wizengamot. This was why his Grandmother had laid claim to the Lestrange assets when Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange were imprisoned in Azkaban for life in late nineteen eighty one for the brutal torture of the Longbottoms.

His thoughts ventured to the young heir, Neville Longbottom who was only seven years old and lived with his Grandmother, Lady Augusta Longbottom. _If I ever meet him, I'd like to befriend him. We're kindred brothers in a way._

His thoughts also went to the Potter family, and that was when his thoughts went back to his own parents, flashes of green, and cruel laughter which had haunted his dreams for years, but he overcame that feeling within a second by using Occlumency to calm his mind, taking deep breaths.

"Quel est le problème, cher (What's wrong, dear)?" His Grandmother's voice was very tender this time. He looked at her to see her features were tense. She only talked to him French like that when she was either angry or upset or concerned.

He hadn't seen her like that in months now. He'd have liked to keep it that way. She did not deserve to keep fretting over him in her later years. She deserved better. _Fool. Look what you did! I'll have to practice Occlumency even more to overcome this lapse. I'll be honest and upfront with her, and it'll reassure her feelings._

Rob warmly smiled at his Grandmother and he gently clasped her hand in his, entwining their fingers to comfort her. "Rien ne va, ma Grand-mère bien-aimée (Nothing is wrong, my beloved Grandma). I was just lost in my memories for a second there, there's nothing to worry about. Occlumency has helped me a lot." His honesty seemed to have done the trick.

This was what he had learnt in his interaction with people. If they asked you if something was wrong and you said, no, nothing is wrong, they'd never believe you even if they made it look like they did. That was when he had tried giving them little pieces of the truth to test them, and it appeared to give better results.

Lies were useful tools, but so were truths. Fleur had unwittingly provided him with a lot of practice in that regard. She used to fret more than his other friends, and she still did.

Nozéa warmly smiled at him as she patted his cheek, "Alright. Now then, back to business. Before we go to Gringotts, you should go ahead to get your wand. Irma and I will go and get everything else on the list. We'll meet outside Gringotts in two hours."

They left the establishment soon after that and went their separate ways. Soon Rob was outside Ollivanders. Peeling gold letters over the door of the shop read: _Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C._

Rob entered the shop. It was narrow and shabby from the inside, and the shop's display consisted of a solitary wand lying on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window. The shop was tiny, empty except for a single, spindly chair in the corner. Thousands of narrow boxes containing wands were piled right up to the ceiling of the tiny shop, and the whole place had a thin layer of dust about it. _You'd think the owner would clean up every once in a while. That dust is probably from 382 B.C.!_

"Welcome, welcome." A kind voice greeted him and Rob saw an old man with pale silvery eyes, white hair, and white skin emerge from within one of the rows. "My name is Ollivander, Garrick Ollivander, proprietor of Ollivanders and you," the old man smiled warmly at him, a curious glint was dancing in his eyes, "You're Lord Grindelwald, aren't you?" Rob shook his extended hand and returned his smile.

"Can't say I've been referred by that before by anyone. Well, anyone except my house-elf, that is." Garrick laughed loudly at that.

"There's a first time for everything, my dear boy. You'll get used to it in England. We're very proud of traditions, more so than in France." _Well aware, indeed._ "Now, you're in need of a wand, yes? Stay right here, I'll be right back." The wandmaker retreated back into the shadows after that.

"I remember every single one of my customers, my Lord, and it seems just like yesterday that your parents walked through that door to buy their wands." Garrick shared, "Although, I can't seem to remember which houses they were sorted into."

"My Mother was sorted in Ravenclaw, and my Father sorted in Slytherin." Robert shared.

"Terrible shame what happened to them at the hands of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. My condolences." Robert tensed at that. He appreciated the condolences, but that cowardly name did not settle right with him. In France, they called him Celui qui ne doit pas être nommé, which translated into what the wandmaker called him.

"Thank you." Garrick kindly smiled at him as he returned with a box in his hands, "I feel supremely confident that this wand was made for a wizard like you. Try it." He placed the box on the front desk and gently pulled out the wand. "Blackthorn, Dragon heartstring from a most vicious Hungarian Horntail, fourteen inches, unyielding. A powerful wand. Handle it with care, Lord Grindelwald. It will serve you well should you choose the path of a warrior."

It was beautiful. It was majestic. And he knew just the right spell and method to test it out.

 _Please work, otherwise I'd be embarrassed in front of this quirky fool._ He took the wand from the shop owner's extended hand, and the way it vibrated in his hands assured him that it would work.

Garrick gasped in surprise as he saw a non-verbal Lumos brighten up his entire shop, the intensity of which made him cover his eyes until it receded. "Unbelievable." He muttered in surprise.

Rob twirled his new wand in his hands. It was perfect. "How much for this, my Lord?"

"Seven Galleons, and please, no need to call me that. You may call me Garrick. It's an honour to sell a wand to a future prodigy." Garrick wistfully said, "My Father used to tell me about how he sold Albus Dumbledore his first wand. When I took over the family business in the nineteen thirties, I never thought I'd sell a wand to a prodigy like he described. I think I just managed to do that for the third time in my lifetime." He laughed again. "A non-verbal Lumos by a child about to begin his first year at Hogwarts? Brilliant, absolutely brilliant!"

_Third? The other two must be Father and Voldemort._

Rob bowed his head in appreciation, "I had good teachers and I studied hard, that's all."

Something suddenly clicked inside his head, something which Garrick had said earlier. "Garrick?"

"Yes, Lord Grindelwald?" Rob waved it off with a wave of his hand.

"Please call me Rob. I wanted to ask you something." Garrick smiled warmly at him.

"Feel free to."

"Did you sell the wand which took the life of my parents?" Garrick's smile vanished, and he recoiled as if he was struck.

"I-I-I b-beg y-your p-pardon?" Rob smiled at him to assure him that everything was fine, but the old man was nervous now. _Exactly as I want him._

"Everyone knows He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named killed my parents. I still remember his face. I still remember everything that happened that night." Garrick's face turned white as snow at that, he was regretting ever bringing up his parents now, Rob reckoned.

"I sin-sincerely beg your p-pardon my Lord, I did not mean to cause any offence!" he really sounded ashamed now. _So far so good._

"And everyone refuses to speak the name he is known by, but, it made me wonder. That possibly couldn't be his birth name, could it? After all, he attended Hogwarts. My Grandmother told me that, but she never speaks about him." Garrick was sweating now.

"What was the name he gave you when he bought his wand from your Father?"

"I-I don't remember!" Garrick protested. Rob chuckled at that.

"Come now, you said you remembered everything." Garrick was struck by silence. Rob lost his smile, and walked up to the wandmaker who took a step back.

"I want his name, Garrick, or I'll tell my Grandmother that you made me uncomfortable by repeatedly mentioning my dead parents in front of me, causing me to remember those dark memories." He got into his face, "You don't want that, do you? The Noble And Most Ancient House of Lestrange as your enemies would ruin you. One article in the Daily Prophet about this, and it's over for you." Garrick gained a fearful look in his eye at that.

"I'll ask you once again."

"T-Tom. Tom Riddle Jr." Garrick squeaked out and Rob placed seven galleons plus an extra for his troubles in the wandmaker's hands.

"Now that wasn't that hard, was it, Lord Ollivander?" Rob bowed to the esteemed wandmaker in respect and left the shop to make his way over to Gringotts, leaving a shaken Garrick behind.

* * *

Gringotts Wizarding Bank was located in an imposing snow-white multistoried marble building located partway down Diagon Alley, near its intersection with Knockturn Alley, which towered over the neighbouring shops.

Rob knew about Knockturn Alley. His Grandma had warned him to not venture in there alone, with vampires, werewolves, dark wizards, criminals of all kinds, hags, and all sorts of dangers lurking in there.  
He was also willing to bet the Aurors were keeping a watch over it, too. An eleven year old student yet to begin his education at Hogwarts would draw the wrong kind of attention. Maybe when he was older and actually knew someone who had business in Knockturn Alley, he'd go there but not before.

Rob non-verbally and wandlessly tried casting Tempus, but it didn't work. _I still need more practice. Tempus is one of the easiest spells to cast in existence._ It worked when he cast it non-verbally with his wand. _I still have an hour and fifteen minutes. What can I do to pass the time? Ah, isn't there a famous ice cream shop in Diagon Alley?_

He asked a kindly old man for directions, and he soon stood in front of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Apparently he sold the best ice cream in wizarding Britain. Rob walked in and was greeted by a man who was in his mid-fifties from his appearance. He introduced himself as Florean Fortescue and gave him a menu to pick his flavours from. "Do you offer ice cream milkshakes in these flavours, Mr. Fortescue?" the shopkeeper smiled and nodded at which Rob ordered one with a scoop of vanilla and a scoop of cookies and cream.

"Pardon me, but are you per chance Lord Vidal Rosier's nephew?" a male voice called out to him from behind him. Rob turned around to see a man nearly nineteen years of age, dressed in immaculate robes as befitting one of the noble purebloods of wizarding Britain. He had strong cheekbones, chocolate brown hair and eyes, white skin and even though he had a smile on his face, the calculating gaze in his eyes made Rob slightly vary. _He knows exactly who I am. Uncle Vidal probably told him to help me keep a low profile, but I don't know he is._

Rob smiled at the stranger, "Indeed I am. Rosier, Robert Rosier from the French branch. How do you do, my Lord?" Rob bowed his head in respect, and the stranger grinned before he bowed back with equal respect. _He knows I intentionally hid the Grindelwald and Lestrange names. Even though more than forty years have passed, the Grindelwald name could possibly draw suspicion, and the less said about the British branch of the Lestranges, the better._

"Rosier, Felix Rosier, Lord of the Noble And Most Ancient House of Rosier of Britain." Felix politely introduced himself, "But all walls have ears, we should have our conversation in a more… private setting. Please, let me treat you today as a welcome back to home." He offered. Rob accepted, it was a wise thing to get to know people like Felix.

Besides, his Grandmother was a Rosier, so they were family. _I have nothing to fear here, I think. Even though the Rosiers in Britain did support Tom._ "Very clever of you to introduce yourself the way you did. You're biding your time before your return is formally announced. I don't think more than a handful of people realised who you are, and The Daily Prophet won't out you until September." Felix grinned.

"I think I remember you, my Lord. You sent me an emerald green cloak crafted from Dragon hide, and an all-black set of Dragon hide clothing on my birthday in March, but how did you recognise me?" Rob observed at which Felix grinned proudly.

"They were made from the remains of an old Ukrainian Ironbelly that died a natural death a year ago. It wasn't well, and I'd booked its parts as soon as I heard about its imminent demise." Felix shared, "I've recently graduated from Hogwarts, and I'm keen to work as a dragonologist. I've gotten an offer from the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary, and I'll be joining them in September. To answer your question, I asked Lord Vidal for a photograph, and he obliged my request. He, too, thought it for the best if we meet." _That was a generous gift, probably the best of the lot. Then again, it wouldn't faze a rich pureblood at all to get something like that. I bet he ordered one for himself, too._ "What about you, my Lord? You're beginning at Hogwarts this year, am I correct?"

Florean brought their orders at that moment. His ice cream shake looked heavenly, and he saw that Felix had ordered the mango delight. A good choice. The older pureblood took out his wand pointed it around their table and chanted "Muffliato". "There, some real privacy. If you don't know about this spell, it's a fifth year charm which is used to fill the ears of any person in the vicinity of the caster with an unidentifiable buzzing sound so as to allow for conversation without being overheard." Felix explained, and Rob was intrigued by the spell. It wasn't in his notes which he made off from Grandpa Nick's lessons, which meant that Britain and France probably had certain unique spells.

He could use his unique spells he learnt from his French friends and relatives as a trump card, all the while learning spells like this at Hogwarts. "Could you cancel it out for a bit?" Rob asked and Felix was confused.

"Why?"

"I want to try it out myself. How is it cast?" Felix grinned at that, Rob hadn't even started yet and he thought he could cast a fifth year charm that soon? Doubtful, but he'd indulge him.

"Just point your wand and chant 'Muffliato'."

Rob drew his wand and pointed just as Felix had and said the incantation. He could probably manage it non-verbally, but it was best to not cast it like that in front of Felix.

Rob didn't figure out if it worked, but when Felix looked at him with slightly wide eyes, he understood.

"I was told by Lord Vidal that you were talented, but I didn't know you were this talented!" he praised with a genuine smile on his face. They finished their shakes after that before the ice cream started to melt. "It is good to meet family. I am the only Rosier alive in Britain, and the war divided the Rosier families of France and Britain." Felix shared sadly, "My Father, David Rosier, and brother, Evan Rosier, were both Death Eaters. I was raised by Lord Corban Yaxley after their deaths; he's my godfather."

"Do you take to their beliefs?" Rob bluntly asked and Felix was silent for a few seconds.

"If you're asking if I believe in pureblood supremacy, then yes, I do. The ministry is bankrupt, the goblins run the only bank in the wizarding world, and it's the purebloods who finance everything in our system." He explained, "Without us, everything would cease to exist as it is and there would be utter chaos. Other than that," he paused for a second, as if he was thinking his words over, "I don't believe that muggle-borns don't deserve magic. They were born with it, and they are essential in our society, but they must know their place." _I certainly did not expect that. Auntie Apolline and Grandma Perenelle explained that the British pure blood families are extremely prejudiced._

Felix caught up on his chain of thought from his expressions. "I bet you thought of all British pureblood families as extremely prejudiced." He guessed with a smirk and chuckled when Rob nodded in surprise.  
"It's nothing new and you wouldn't be completely wrong, if I were to be honest. You see, of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, the Dark Lord was supported by quite a few families, and the Black, Lestrange, Parkinson, Travers, Carrow, Avery, Flint, Malfoy, Rosier, Rowle, and Bulstrode Houses took those views to the extreme. None more so than the Lestranges, Blacks, and the Rosiers."

Rob nodded at that, he showed his interest quite openly to Felix. Here was a distant relative who was being very straight forward and honest, and it could really help him in the future. He obviously didn't have any motive to convert him to Tom's cause, with his parents being victims of the Dark Lord, so maybe it was simply a case of giving out free help. It didn't mean his guard wasn't up, of course. _Father made that mistake, and he ended up dead. I will not end up like him.  
_  
"But there are others like the Greengrasses under Sebastian Greengrass, Yaxleys under Corban Yaxley and the Rosiers now under my leadership, who believe in the old ways but also have a more pragmatic approach towards reality. Money runs the country, and it is the purebloods who will lead the country, as they always have." Felix finished explaining his views on the subject. "What about you? What do you believe in, Lord Grindelwald?"

"You're family, so please call me Rob."

"Only if you call me Felix." He grinned. Rob nodded and returned the grin.

"You know of my grandfather, don't you?" Felix nodded solemnly. Everyone knew of Gellert Grindelwald, the third strongest wizard in history. "He believed in the superiority of all magical beings, and I've read and heard that he was supported by Giants, Veela, Vampires, Goblins, and Werewolves and other beings during his campaign." Felix nodded distastefully, "Oh? You disapprove?"

"These… beings… are devilish creatures. They are a danger to humans, to all magicals, and it is only right that they are controlled. Veela destroy families apart, the seductresses that they are. The vampires feed on humans, the werewolves infect our children with their curse. Why shouldn't I disapprove?"

 _Valid points, but two can play that game._ "And what do you propose, Felix? Should we launch wars against all non-humans? Did magic not come to them as it came to humans? Do we not use the knowledge of centaurs for healing and astronomy? Do house-elves not serve us? Do Veela not marry into our families and provide us with beautiful children?" Rob countered and Felix faltered at that.

"But they are dangerous!" Felix tried to argue but he seemed to have driven himself into a corner because Rob knew he had him.

"Define dangerous; if you think they are a danger to our lives then they are only dangerous if we treat them as enemies. Have we ever tried to make peace with them, to help them figure out their roles in a human dominated society? And there is nothing wrong with human dominance, we are the most powerful species after all, ever since we learned magic from the fairies. But if we hold genocidal urges towards other beings, then we will only weaken ourselves, and the muggles will become more powerful." Rob argued coolly.

Felix was silent at that. He was looking at him with a harsh gaze, which was to be expected. Purebloods were like that, but he didn't say anything for over a minute. "How did you come to hold those beliefs? I did not expect the Lord of Grindelwald and the heir of Lestrange, and mine own blood to hold such… modern… views." Felix at last spoke.

"They are the beliefs of my mentor, and my godfather." Felix's eyebrows rose at that, "Nicholas Flamel. I was named after him, Robert Nicholas Grindelwald." Felix's eyes widened, but then he smiled.

"This has been a very enlightening conversation, Rob. I was very excited to meet you after finishing at Hogwarts, and you did not disappoint. I am glad that we share the same views, even if there are some disagreements. However, you make some fine arguments, and I will try to view certain beings in a more neutral light from now on. You're right, magicals fighting against magicals only makes the muggles stronger."

They still had half an hour left until Rob had to be at Gringotts, and Felix went on to tell Rob about his time at Hogwarts as a Slytherin and as a Prefect and Head Boy in his last year. He was good at Potions, Charms, and Herbology. Rob laughed at his story of using the freezing charm to help the Slytherin Quidditch team win the Quidditch cup. "Always remember, Rob; nothing matters more than winning. If you want to make a name for yourself and quickly at that, you have to prove your mettle in Slytherin."

"Bold of you to assume I'd be sorted in Slytherin. We've barely known each other for an hour at this point." Rob smirked.

"I'll eat my boots if you're sorted anywhere else than Slytherin." They both laughed at that. Felix provided some more advice about the to dos and not to dos at Hogwarts, and soon the time had come for them to part.

Rob was about to pay his pill when Felix told him that he didn't need to, now or ever. "The Rosiers own a third of the shares in this business, and we own the building completely." Is what Felix replied with a grin upon being asked why not. They promised to keep in touch via owl.

_That reminds me. I have to get an owl, too.  
_

* * *

He made his way back right outside of Gringotts and entered the bank. A set of white stairs lead up to a set of burnished bronze doors. The doors were flanked by a goblin in a uniform of scarlet and gold. This was the entrance to Gringotts, and it lead into a small entrance hall and another set of doors. Engraved on these silver doors were the words.

_Enter, stranger, but take heed  
Of what awaits the sin of greed  
For those who take, but do not earn,  
Must pay most dearly in their turn.  
So if you seek beneath our floors  
A treasure that was never yours,  
Thief, you have been warned, beware  
Of finding more than treasure there._

Through these doors, also flanked with goblins, was a vast marble hall containing long counters stretching along its length with doors leading off to the vault passageways with around a hundred goblins sitting at them. Rob had heard and read much about Gringotts and their branches around the world. The vaults extended for miles under the city and were accessible through rough stone, complex and interconnected passageways by means of magic carts that were operated by goblins. Dragons and other mysterious beasts lurked in the depths as additional security devices. _Probably not an exaggeration, that last bit._

He saw Grandma Nozéa waiting for him in the hall sitting on one of the couches reserved for clients waiting for their appointments.

"Exactly on time, I've sent Irma home with the purchases. Come, we have an appointment with your accounts manager." She led him to one of the rooms behind the counters. The sign outside the room read, 'Branch Manager Ragnok'. They entered it and were warmly greeted by its occupier.

"Welcome to Gringotts, Lady Lestrange. I trust you are in good health?" Rob had heard that Goblins weren't really respectful towards wizards and witches, in fact, they were quite snarky. But his Grandmother was the Lady of the French Lestrange branch and the heir of the British Lestrange branch due to certain circumstances, and one of the richest individuals in magical Europe owing to those facts.

Goblins respected influence and power, and his Grandmother had both in plenty.

The goblin who greeted his Grandmother from behind the table was short and fair-skinned. He had very long fingers and feet, a dome-shaped head which was slightly larger than Irma's. He had a bald head, a pointed nose, and pointed ears. He had dark, slanted eyes, and wore a pointed hat alongside jewelry to signify his status as the leader of the goblins in wizarding Britain.

"I am, Ragnok. I thank you for your concern." His Grandmother replied as they took their seats. _Neither of them care in the least bit about the other's health. These are just formalities._ "This is my grandson and heir, Robert Nicholas Grindelwald." Rob put his hand forward to shake the goblins' hand.

Ragnok gained a surprised look in his eyes, and Rob could feel his Grandmother scowling at him but she quickly schooled her features before the goblin could notice it. After a few seconds, the goblin gave a slight smile and shook his hand firmly. _His hand feels funny to the touch, but it's warm._

His Grandmother carried on, "He will inherit the Lestrange name when my time comes, but for now, I wish for him to be formally recognised as the Lord of The Noble And Most Ancient House of Grindelwald. I trust you got my owl detailing my desires in advance?" Ragnok nodded at that.  
"Indeed, Lady Lestrange. I have already drafted all the necessary requirements. In order to make the transfer deed magically and legally valid, the bank and the ministry will require your signature as the transferor, and Lord Grindelwald's signature as the transferee." Ragnok placed a thick set of documents on the table and opened the relevant pages. "I have already signed it as the bank's representative, and so has the ministries' representative."

Once the documents were signed by all parties, Nozéa presented Rob with a ring and his vault key. The ring was made of pure silver with a large red diamond embedded in its center. _That is goblin steel. Is that…?_ Nozéa smiled at Rob. "It's the Grindelwald signet ring. It was commissioned by Godric Gryffindor alongside his sword from King Ragnuk The First. It has been in your family for nearly a thousand years, and now it's yours." Rob was speechless as he tenderly grasped the ring and pocketed the key.

The ring was beautiful, and Rob felt magic swirl around him as he put it on. Ragnok explained that it was evidence that the ring had accepted him as its master, and the transfer deed was now of binding effect.

Rob saw that the goblin had gained a greedy glint in his eyes at the mention of the Sword of Gryffindor. Grandpa Nick had gone to great details to teach him about his House's history, with the most important aspect being of their ancient feud with the goblin nation regarding the sword's ownership.

Nozéa stood up to leave after that, "Meet me in the lobby after you're done getting an update about your vaults. Meanwhile, I have a meeting with Ricbert, the manager of my late husband's account. Good luck."

_That's the signal for 'Don't let Ragnok cheat you through a shady deal'._

She left after that, and Rob was left alone with Ragnok after that. "Now then, my Lord. I will begin by giving you an update about what you inherited from your late Father, Lord Norbert Albus Grindelwald. Vault six hundred and eighty eight is your family vault, and it contains heirlooms and galleons worth a grand total of one hundred and thirty three thousand, seven hundred and sixty seven galleons." Rob nodded at that. It was nothing compared to the fortune of the Lestranges of France, which was worth nearly forty million galleons, making his Grandmother the fourth richest individual in magical France. Only the Tremblays, Perrots, and Gages were richer than the Lestranges, and only the Rosiers came close to matching them.

The Grindelwald family had lost a lot of their fortune due to his grandfather' uprising which costed them tens of millions of galleons in fines and costs. They were exiled from Germany, Austria and Prussia for as long as Gellert Grindelwald breathed, and Nurmengard Castle, the ancestral home of the Grindelwalds in Austria was still not returned to his family.

His Grandmother had often told him that Nurmengard was lost to his family forever, and the Austrian Ministry of Magic would never relinquish control over it. _They can try._

The family name and fortune never recovered after that, and even his Father's status as a dueling champion didn't help. He had been celebrated as an international celebrity for being an undefeated duelist from his very first match as a young student at Hogwarts until he had won the World Dueling Championship three times in a row before he retired to start a family.

Then he was crucified by the 'righteous' for not participating in the war effort against Voldemort. Because he chose his family. His wife. His son.

'Hindsight is always twenty/twenty'. It was a muggle proverb he had heard Grandpa Nick say when he was making a point about learning from one's mistakes. Part of him felt that his Father was a coward who chose the easy way out and he should have rather fought Tom. A big possibility in that scenario was that the Death Eaters would have killed him and his Mother.

Another part of him was proud of his Father for choosing his family, but it was also aware that it had tarnished the Grindelwald name in both the light and dark circles. No one trusted his family, now.

It was up to him to rebuild his family's name. Only him.

And as for maggots like Ragnok or any other goblin stood in his way out a self-righteous sense of entitlement, he planned on becoming so powerful that such trivial matters wouldn't concern him in the future. _For now, I'll bide my time. I'm neither powerful enough nor intelligent enough to do anything practical to change how things are._

"You have the Grindelwald Residence in River Piddle, in Dorset County. A splendid bungalow sized at eleven thousand sq. ft. and valued at a hundred thousand galleons. Secondly, you own the ancestral manor of the Noble And Most Ancient House of Gryffindor named 'Godric's Hollow' on the outskirts of the village of Godric's Hollow in Cornwall County. The manor building and its grounds are sized at one hundred and ten thousand sq. ft., and it is valued at eight hundred thousand galleons. You also own five hundred acres of agricultural land in the village which have been leased to the ministry. They generate a rental income of ten thousand galleons per year, and their estimated value is at four hundred thousand galleons. Finally, you own two shops in the upper district, each sized at one thousand sq. ft. and worth four hundred thousand galleons each. Each generates a rental income of ten thousand galleons." Listening to all this was making his head hurt, and Ragnok chuckled as he noticed it.

"To summarise, your properties are worth a total of two million and one hundred thousand galleons, you have a total income of thirty thousand galleons per year, and you have one hundred and thirty three thousand, seven hundred and sixty seven galleons." Ragnok finished explaining.

Rob asked about the whereabouts of the title documents Ragnok replied that they were located inside his fault in a secure chest with protective wards and charms which only the owner of the vault could bypass. Not even the employees of Gringotts could open it. He nodded at that. "And to whom are the shops leased to?" Rob further asked to which Ragnok nodded before answering, "Twilfitt and Tattings; a high end clothing shop, and Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop." _Those could come in handy._

"This is a very good inheritance, Lord Grindelwald, although, I must tell you it is next to nothing compared to the fortunes by most of the Sacred Twenty-Eight."

Rob nodded at that, he wasn't concerned with making more money. What he already had was enough to last him for a lifetime, and that wasn't even counting the combined Lestrange fortune which dwarfed the fortunes of most of the families in magical Europe and Britain.

Only the Noble And Most Ancient Houses of Greengrass and Malfoy surpassed it in all of magical Europe. The French branch of the Lestranges on its own was one of the ten richest families in magical Europe. He didn't desire for more wealth, but more wealth never hurt anybody.

Rob realised that Ragnok thought he wasn't happy with the state of his accounts, and the Gringotts manager went on to list a number of investments that could be made to increase his fortune. Some of them sounded too good to be true. Some of them looked like they could be contemplated.

You never knew with goblins. They were greed incarnate. Like the dragons of myth, especially Smaug in Tolkien's The Hobbit, goblins loved to hoard treasure. The very sight of gold made them salivate, and they were ruthless businessmen who weren't afraid to rip off anyone stupid enough to enter into a deal with them.

From Lord to peasant, they fucked everyone.

He told Ragnok that he'd consider the proposals, and to owl him the particulars in France at the Lestrange Manor. Ragnok nodded and they concluded their business. Just as Rob was about to leave, however, the goblin called out to him again.

"There is one more matter, Lord Grindelwald. My apologies for bringing this up now, but it is of dire importance." _I bet this is when he'll ask me for the sword._ Rob turned around with a smile, "There is no need to apologise, dear Ragnok. We are friends, at least I'd like to think that we are friends. Are we not?" Rob said with a wide smile, which he saw made Ragnok slightly uncomfortable. He clearly wasn't used to half insane eleven year olds like himself.

They said 'be careful what you wish for'. Ragnok should have remembered that. "Yes, of course, Lord Grindelwald. Please take a seat again, of course we are friends." Ragnok gave a sharp smile, but he seemed nervous now. Perhaps he had meant to unnerve him with this last minute discussion.

"The matter I wish to discuss with you is one of utmost importance to the goblin nation. Nearly a thousand years ago," Ragnok began, "Your ancestor, Godric Gryffindor, stole the ancestral sword of King Ragnuk The First. King Ragnuk repeatedly asked him to return it, but he repeatedly refused. Out of desperation, King Ragnuk sent his subjects to retrieve it, but Godric Gryffindor was too powerful, and defeated our agents. His barbarism knew no bounds and he threatened to unsheathe the sword against us if we ever tried to reclaim our rightful property, and King Ragnuk who loved his people more than one can measure, stopped trying, but he never forgot the slight." Ragnok finished, but Rob gestured for him to go on.

Ragnok was surprised, he had expected to be interrupted quite rudely by now, the encouragement made him more comfortable in talking. "The goblins and wizards have fought many wars in the past, and the matter of this sword's return was always a core part of our position. I ask you now, as the new Lord of Grindelwald to restore our rightful property to us." Ragnok finished with a small smile.

"But my friend, House Grindelwald does not possess the sword ever since Godric Gryffindor died. It is at Hogwarts, I believe, and this matter is out of my hands." Ragnok lost his smile at that.

"My Lord, surely as it is in your possession, you can talk to the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, and the Board of Governors on our behalf." Ragnok proposed but was alarmed at the predatory smile Rob gave him.

"My possession? Well, when you put it that way, yes; it has been in my family's and Hogwarts's possession for nearly a thousand years, and as it is rightful wizard property, the goblins have no claim to it. As far as I'm aware, wizarding law recognises possession as ownership, especially something which has been possessed for that long." Rob could feel Ragnok's mood worsening, but he knew he had no valid justifications.

Ragnok was fumbling for air and failing.

"And besides, why would I return it to you even if I get it back? Especially for free. I don't see any reason to do any favours here, Ragnok." Rob stated plainly.

Ragnok was now in a tough position. He had not expected this child to be this good of a businessman. He was ruthlessly intelligent. He was loathed to admit it, but to save face he had to make an offer now. That sword was worth any price. "Name your price, my Lord." He said.

"One hundred million galleons." Rob offered with a shit eating grin, and Ragnok seemed like he wanted to strangle him with his grubby, small hands.

"That is too much!" he strongly protested and Rob raised his eyebrows at him.

"Oh? A thousand year old artifact attributed to one of the most famous and strongest wizards in history, a sword over which multiple wars have been fought as you said, and made of the finest goblin steel by the finest goblin silversmith in history. It is bound to hold a lot of sentimental value, dear friend, and it turns out it holds a lot of value for me. One hundred million galleons, or no deal." Rob insisted.

Ragnok shook his head in refusal, "I'm afraid I'll have to insist for you to hand it over to us as soon as possible, my Lord. Without charge." He gave a sharp smile. _I'll put you in your place now. No holding back._

Rob laughed at that, "You're still my vault manager, aren't you?" Ragnok lost his smile, and he slightly nodded in confusion.

"Well, not anymore. You see, I don't like your tone, and I'm going to fire you this very moment. In fact, I'm thinking of shifting my account entirely to the Gringotts branch in Paris. They never mentioned any interest in the properties of my forefathers, and nor did they threaten me over it." It was true. The goblin nation was divided into many nations which were allied with each other, but only the goblins of Britain had any interest in the Sword of Gryffindor. Gringotts was controlled by all of the goblin nations in a joint manner.

Ragnok faltered at that. _Didn't expect that, did you, you ugly fuck?_ "I'll also hire a reporter or two to write about my experience today. The Editor of Le Cri de la Gargouille (The Cry of the Gargoyle), Maurice Pinho, is an old friend of my Grandmother. I've also heard that Rita Skeeter of The Daily Prophet loves controversial news like this. Would you like that, Ragnok? Would you like to be crucified in both the wizarding world for what will be considered an outrage of the highest level, and to make a laughing stock of yourself amongst your brethren? Give me the word, I'll have it all arranged." Rob purred and laughed cruelly as Ragnok shivered in fright and rapidly shook his head.

"N-no, my Lord! You have my most sincere apologies. I promise, I will not bring this up again." Rob got up at that and lost his smile, giving Ragnok a hard look.

"I can either be your best friend, Ragnok, or I can be your worst enemy. Choose wisely, and don't dare to take advantage of my age again. It will not go well for you." Rob said coldly to Ragnok who rapidly nodded his head.

Rob suddenly smiled warmly at him, and Ragnok was bewildered by how quickly he was switching between his moods. _Goblins most likely do not learn Occlumency. It really helps in masking emotions. All he sees is my smile, but he isn't feeling my desire to rip him into pieces._ "I am not without a capacity for forgiveness, my friend. Let bygones be bygones and let's move forward with a new start. What do you say?"

Ragnok had calmed down by now. "Of course, my Lord. What would you like to discuss?"

"For starters, remind me; what is your salary as my manager? Is it two hundred and fifty galleons per year?

"Indeed, my Lord." Rob nodded his head once at that.

"It is now three hundred galleons per year."

Ragnok smiled appreciatively at that, but Tony Montana said in Scarface; The eyes, Chico, they never lie. _Greed will imprison us all. Throw a little money and make the goblins dance to your tunes. That is why the purebloods have always ruled this world. They believe power is power, while these fools believe money is power._ "You are most generous, my Lord."  
 _  
_"I will give you bonuses for good work if you serve me well." Ragnok nodded at that, "Or, I will ruin you and get a new manager. Gringotts will appoint a new bank manager, and you, Ragnok, will be lost to the canons of history." Ragnok tensed at the threat. _I should drive the point home once and for all._

"The goblin nation will not become my enemy if you betray me, but, you will, my friend." Rob pointed his finger at Ragnok, who shook his head frightfully. "I will hunt you down to the ends of this Earth, always remember that before greed whispers in your ear."

* * *

Rob left the bank manager's office and made his way to the lobby. _  
_  
"Où maintenant, ma belle enfant (Where to now, my fair maiden)?" Rob asked with a grin. Nozéa rolled her eyes at that as she sighed.

"Eeylops Owl Emporium." Rob smiled childishly at the mention of an owl. Despite the rigid pureblood upbringing that he had to go through to learn how to mingle with the elite, despite his once in a generation magical talent, despite his ruthlessness, he was still a child who was excited by small things and pleasure. Nozéa only wished that he'd remember that more often, and not just in front of his family and close friends.

The store was located in the lower upper district, not far from Gringotts and they were outside within a minute of walking. Outside of the shop, many different colours and species of owls hung in cages, watching all of the pedestrians passing them. The shop was relatively small and there were very dim lights, likely because owls were nocturnal creatures.

Surprisingly it didn't smell that bad, probably a benefit of being able to use spells to quickly clean the shit that should have been all over the cages.

A young woman in her thirties greeted them with a smile, "Hello, are you looking for an owl for Hogwarts?" Rob nodded and returned her smile, and the woman showed him different owls from different species.

They were all so… plain. Rob had seen how beautiful a Snowy owl could be in the brochure that she gave him, but they were out of stock. He sighed, "Do you have anything more exotic in stock? An owl that stands out?"

The woman took a few moments to think it over, but then she gestured for him to weight and walked to the back of the shop and brought a cage towards him.  
Its prisoner was majestic. _  
_  
The owl had large tufts of feathers on its head that looked like horns. It had big cat-like eyes and brown white, gray, and black markings all over its body that looked like the bark of a tree. Its colour was an extremely dark shade of gray, which could be confused with black for the ones who couldn't discern between colours. "This is a Northeastern great horned owl from Quebec, Canada. We imported him nearly a year ago, but he doesn't even let anyone other than myself feed him or grab his cage. He's a proper demon, if you ask me." The woman nervously laughed but the owl's aggressive hoot at that shut her up quickly.

"A demon, you say?" Rob grinned at that as he locked eyes with the owl. He asked the woman for some treats and asked her to open the cage for him. She warned him that he might bite his fingers off if he didn't like him, but fingers could be easily reattached. _This owl isn't that scary. You're just a massive pussy cat and that gives him the license to treat you like his bitch._

Rob placed his and inside the cage and the owl quickly gobbled up the treats that were offered to him. The owl then nuzzled his head against Rob's hand. "How much for him?" he asked the shocked shopkeeper. She quoted a price of twenty galleons but Rob paid her thirty and bought some premium owl treats for his new owl.

Nozéa shook her head, "You just can't resist awing people, can you?" she teased.

"I'm an entertainer, you know that."

"You're supposed to be a Lord."

"An entertaining Lord?" his grandma smacked her forehead in frustration as Rob laughed merrily, and his new owl hooted loudly.

Rob turned to the predator bird in its cage, "I think I'll name you… Lucifer." An apt name for a demon owl.

* * *

Author's Notes: I know I'm a day or two late but I crossed 14K words in this chapter and 20K words in total. The next chapter will hopefully take us beyond 35K words in total, and we'll see many new POVs and characters as we move to Hogwarts. I'll do my best to feed you all good length chapters.

Keep reviewing and add it to your following/favorite lists. It really warms my heart.


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